


come back, come back, come back to me

by medusacascade22



Series: Lucky Thirteen [4]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst, Carolina Hurricanes, Excessive Drinking, M/M, Washington Capitals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-28
Updated: 2012-08-28
Packaged: 2017-11-13 02:31:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/498464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/medusacascade22/pseuds/medusacascade22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> I've be waiting for you ever since you've been gone. I just want it back the way it was before, I just wanna see you back at my front door. </i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>When Alex gets drunk, he calls Sasha.</p>
            </blockquote>





	come back, come back, come back to me

**Author's Note:**

> part of my Lucky Thirteen series, in which I write unrelated hockey fics based on various Taylor Swift songs. this one is based on If This Was A Movie, and you should really listen to it, cause the entire song is just perfect and heartbreaking for ovi and sasha.
> 
> the mentioned "maria" is maria kirilenko, ovi's russian tennis-playing olympic-bronze-medal-winning girlfriend. she's cool.
> 
> (typing the hurricanes tag was really painful negl)
> 
> (i would like to apologize to nicoleh262. she knows why.)

 

 

 

Alex has known that Sasha could leave any second for five years; so really, it’s not much of a surprise when it actually happens. Still, it does sting a bit, so Alex does his best not to think about the whole thing and live his life as he always has, just without Sasha at his side.

Usually, Alex is fine. He’s happy and enthusiastic and _himself_ , so much so that no one suspects that anything is wrong. It’s not even an act; Alex really _is_ fine. He knows that these things happen, hell, they’re an occupational hazard.

Except when Alex drinks.

When he drinks, Alex can’t hold it together. The logic and the preparation mean nothing, practically cease to exist altogether. Alex doesn’t know that trades happen, that Sasha needed a fresh start, or that he’s fine without Sasha. All that Alex knows is that Sasha isn’t there, and never will be again.

 

The first time Alex calls is in the beginning of October, just as the season is starting. Alex can hear the sounds of a club when Sasha answers; scattered laughter and the thump of a bass.

“Hello?” Sasha says loudly over the music.

“Sasha, it’s me,” Alex says.

“Huh?”

“It’s Alex!” He yells it this time.

“Oh, uh,” Sasha struggles. “I, uh, I can’t talk now,”

Alex sighs. “Out with the team?”

“Well, yeah,”

“I miss you,” Alex says quickly, the words coming out without his permission.

“Alex, I can’t… I can’t do this now.” Sasha says. Alex is about to respond, ask him to wait, _beg_ him to wait. But then there’s a metallic click and the connection is dead.

Alex holds his head in his hands for a while before getting up and pouring himself another glass. He sits on the couch and sips slowly, feeling like a complete idiot.

Of course Sasha isn’t holed up in his Raleigh apartment, missing Alex. He’s out with his new team, partying and having fun. Alex knows he should be doing the same thing, but here he is, alone and drunk and miserable.

Alex could call up Mike or Carlie or anyone really and go out, distract himself with loud music and sweaty skin, but he doesn’t. Instead, he finishes his drink and crawls into bed, but lies awake for more hours than he cares to count.

 

It’s only a week and a half later that Alex calls again. There’s a lot of fumbling when Sasha picks up, like he didn’t mean to.

“Hello?” Alex asks after a few seconds of noise. “You there?”

“Fuck, oh fucking shit,” Sasha says from what sounds like far away. There’s some more fumbling, and then Sasha’s voice is louder. “Fuck, phone was in pocket, did not mean to answer,” Sasha says in his broken English.

“It’s, it’s okay,” Alex says.

“Alex, baby, get your sweet ass back over here.” The words come from a few inches away from the speaker, and are said by a girl with an American accent.

“Just a second,” Sasha says to her before returning to the speaker. “Who is this?”

Alex drops the phone and runs to the bathroom, where he immediately heaves up his post-game meal and the few glasses of vodka he had when he got home.

 

Sasha answers for real the next time, but he does so with a sigh.

“Hello, Alex,” he says quietly.

“Hey,” Alex says. “Are you… can you talk this time?”

“Yeah, I’m alone,” Sasha says. He sounds tired, but Alex isn’t about to stop and tell him to get some sleep and miss this opportunity to actually talk to him.

“So…” Alex suddenly doesn’t know what to say, now that he finally has Sasha’s attention. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” Sasha says.

“Good, good,” Alex hesitates, waiting for Sasha to say something else. He stays silent. Alex takes a deep breath, trying to calm the words that are bubbling up in his throat. But he can only hold it in for so long, and the vodka isn’t helping, so he just lets go and says it. “Sasha, I love you.”

“No, you don’t,” Sasha says with a sigh. “You love Maria.”

“Well, yes… but you too,” Alex says.

Sasha sighs again. “Alex, go to bed.”

“But—” Alex wants to say something, anything to make Sasha stay, talk to him, listen.

“Goodnight, Alex.” Sasha hangs up.

Sasha doesn’t answer the phone when Alex calls for a while after that night.

 

And then it’s November 30thst, the night before the Capitals and Hurricanes play each other for the first time in Washington. Alex stands by his living room window and watches the light snow land on his yard, trying to decide whether or not to call. He knows it’s probably a bad idea, but he really wants to talk to Sasha before they see each other on the ice.

Eventually, Alex calls, because he knows he was always going to.

Sasha answers for the first time in weeks and says, “You have to stop doing this, Sanja.”

“Come over,” Alex says because seeing Sasha’s face is the only thing he wants right now.

“It’s the night before a game, you shouldn’t be drinking.” Sasha sighs.

“Please come over.”

“Alex, stop,”

“Please, Sasha” Alex’s voice lowers, almost pleading.

Sasha is silent for a while. “Fine,” he finally says.

Alex goes into the kitchen after hanging up and rinses out his glass. He considers pouring another one, but Sasha was right, he does have a game tomorrow. He leaves the glass by the sink and returns to the living room to wait. Alex knows that it won’t take long for Sasha to get to his house; the hotel isn’t far away and Sasha knows the way so well he could do it in his sleep. Hell, he almost has a few times.

Alex stares out the window, eyes glazing over and mind wandering. He doesn’t snap out of it until he sees headlights shining through the snow and turning into his driveway.

Alex has the door open and is waiting on the front step before Sasha has even gotten out of the car. Sasha walks up the path to the front door, eyes down and hands stuffed in his jacket pockets. Alex just wants to reach out and hug him, but keeps his arms at his sides.

They’re both quiet as Sasha follows Alex to the living room and sits down on the couch. It’s the first time that they’ve seen each other since right after the season ended and they both ran off to separate parts of Russia to lick their playoff wounds. IIHF was just a distraction, only lasting a few days before the reality of the previous season came crashing down.Things were uncertain then, neither knowing where Sasha would end up over the course of the summer, and not wanting to talk about it.

Sasha breaks the silence by asking, “Where’s Maria?”

“She’s visiting family back home,” Alex says. Sasha nods and keeps staring at the floor. Alex keeps staring at Sasha.

“Sanja,” Sasha says a few minutes later, voice shaking a bit.

“This isn’t right. You should be _here_ ,” Alex blurts out. He can feel the tears at the back of his eyes. “With _me,”_

“Don’t… don’t say that,” Sasha says harshly.

“No, Sasha, this is wrong. Come back to me.” Alex tries to hold back the tears, his voice breaking with the effort.

“I can’t,” Sasha sighs.

“Yes, you can—” Alex starts.

“No, Alex, I can’t. You don’t need me here.” Alex knows Sasha isn’t talking about the team anymore, but them.

“I do, Sasha, I love you—”

“You don’t love me. You just miss me.” Sasha’s voice is sharp, final.

Alex doesn’t respond, _can’t_ respond.

“You love Maria. You love Washington. You love all of this. You don’t need me to keep loving it.” Sasha says, softer this time.

Alex takes a shaky breath and wipes at his eyes. He doesn’t have anything to fight with now, because Sasha is right, as much as Alex doesn’t want him to be.

“I love it more with you,” Alex says after a while.

“I know you do,” Sasha says. He reaches out like he wants to touch Alex, but lets his hand fall back to his side. “But this just had to happen. For everyone.”

Alex swallows hard. “Yeah,” he nods. Alex wants to ask Sasha if he’s happy in Carolina, but decides that he doesn’t really want to know either way. Sasha is looking at him with a mix of pity and worry, so Alex forces himself to smile, even though he knows it looks as fake as it is. “See you on the ice tomorrow?” Alex asks, trying to laugh along with it and failing.

“Yeah,” Sasha smiles sadly. “See you out there.” He stands up slowly and walks over to Alex, taking Alex’s face in his hands. Sasha looks into his eyes for a moment before leaning in close and kissing Alex once, hard and gentle all at once. He pulls away too soon, and then is out the door before Alex opens his eyes.

Alex stays on the couch for a while, just staring at his hands. He tries to think through what just happened, what Sasha said, what he should do, but he can’t make his mind work. Finally, he gets up and goes to bed, falling asleep immediately.

 

The snow is melted by the time Alex wakes up. He feels better than he has in months. It isn’t perfect, but it’s a start.

 

 

~fin

 

 


End file.
